


Laying the Blame

by Sadbhyl



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Sarah Jane Smith (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-16
Updated: 2012-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:17:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason Josh never turns on his mobile</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laying the Blame

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published July 16, 2006

The match played on in the background, but Josh didn’t notice it, just staring at the mobile phone in his hand as though it were a viper. But if it were, it had already struck and done its damage.

He’d forgotten to turn it off again after he’d ordered the pizza. It was his own fault.

He was just about to set it back on the coffee table when to his surprise it had burst out with a bit of “God Put a Smile Upon Your Face”, startling him. There weren’t many people who knew his number, and when he saw it was a restricted number, his heart sank. He normally kept the damn thing turned off for just this reason. There were some people he didn’t want to have to talk to.

But he answered the phone anyway. So it was his own fault.

“Joshua, my boy, how are you?”

Sir Donald Wakefield’s voice was bluff and booming even through the tinny reception of the phone. But Josh wasn’t in the mood. “I’m fine, Dad, what do you want?”

“Now, Josh, is that any way to talk to your father?” Sir Donald sounded hurt.

Josh didn’t relent. “If I thought you were genuinely concerned about my welfare, then no. But we both know better, don’t we? So go on, tell me what you want.”

Sir Donald sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t be like that, boy. We need you. You could be a—”

“Dad, either tell me what you’re after, or I’m hanging up.”

“Alright then. Joshua, it’s time for you to fulfill your duties to the Order. I have an assignment for you.”

He had suspected something like this as soon as he’d realized who was on the phone. “What sort of assignment?”

“Protection. The Order needs you to guard the life and person of Miss Sarah Jane Smith.”

“Why?”

“You needn’t concern yourself with that,” Sir Donald dismissed the question blithely. “Just know that she is important to the Order and it is now your responsibility to keep her safe.”

Josh ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Well, how am I supposed to meet her? I can hardly go up to her and say, ‘Hello there, Miss Smith, there’s this mystical order concerned about your well-being, mind if I stalk you for an indeterminate length of time?’ She’ll have me locked away.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Josh,” Sir Donald chided. “Everything has been arranged. She’s currently working at Merchant’s Bank as a cashier. Your admission into her presence is in the box you received today from Eleanor Martin.”

Josh glanced over at the cardboard box sitting unopened on his kitchen table. “How do you know about that?”

“Josh, you know better than that. Now, take good care of our girl. I think you’ll find she’s very special.” With that, he disconnected, leaving Josh on his couch, staring at his phone, wishing for a change he’d been smart enough not to answer it. 

Curious in spite of himself, he got up and went over to the table, using a bent steak knife to slit the tapes open on the box. Inside were the expected leaflets and postcards Ellie expected him to distribute. But on top was a white envelope with a yellow sticky note attached. “Josh,” the note read, “I need you to get this to a friend of mine. Her name’s Sarah Jane Smith, and she can be a bit elusive. If you don’t have luck, try Natalie Redfern. Thanks!” The envelope itself was just marked “FAO SJ”.

He tapped the envelope against his hand thoughtfully. On the one hand, the thought of spending any time with one of Eleanor’s sanctimonious, fire eating young things was enough to make him cringe. But if she had gotten the attention of his father and the Orbus Postremo, then she really was in serious trouble. Josh didn’t believe all their stuff and nonsense about the Herald and the coming of a new age, despite having it forced on him by Sir Donald until finally Josh had had enough and left. But he knew enough to know that they took it seriously. They had enough power and influence to know what was what here in the real world. If anything should happen to this girl and he could have prevented it, he’d never forgive himself. Which of course was what his father was counting on.

The door buzzer rang, breaking him out of his reverie. He paid for the pizza and beer, cracking one bottle open even before he got back to the couch. Sufficient unto the day and all that. There was nothing he could do tonight. He’d do this favor for Ellie, go by the bank tomorrow and have a look at this Sarah Jane Smith. If it looked like she was in trouble, then he’d see what he could do. In the meantime the pizza was getting cold, the beer was getting flat, and Man U was kicking Chelsea’s ass.

If he couldn’t sense the world shifting around him, well, that was his own damn fault for turning the mobile on in the first place.


End file.
